


A Blind Dragon

by Kiiratam



Series: BeeDSM [5]
Category: RWBY
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Canon Compliant, Dom Blake Belladonna, F/F, Light Angst, Smut, Sub Yang Xiao Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: There's nothing to see here, but Yang isn't going to move along.Takes place between Volumes 5 & 6. (My BMBLB fic index)
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Series: BeeDSM [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541128
Comments: 5
Kudos: 66





	A Blind Dragon

Yang's eyes were open, but she couldn't see anything. Maybe the faintest sliver of moonlight around the edges of the blindfold. Faint enough that Yang didn't know if she was imagining them.

  
She waited, cross-legged on the bed, tracing vague circles on the blanket with her pinkie. The texture was relaxing, promising cozy nights snuggled underneath it, as the cold soaked into everything else.

  
Swallowing, she grabbed onto her ankle with her Atlesian hand. Tried to be patient, drumming on the side of her foot. Forced herself to stop, almost as soon as she started. She had to wait. And not look like she minded.

  
Yang reached up and patted her blindfold, shifting it a bit to block out the moonlight for sure.

  
No light now.

  
Just waiting.

  
The room wasn't cold exactly, but just sitting still, not doing anything - the chill in the air was starting to soak in. Especially since her Semblance wasn't charged at all. No glowy hair, no reserve of energy lingering in her Aura, nothing. She liked to have _something_ in the tank, even if it was just from a quick sparring match, or jumping off the roof, something. Being empty like this just made her feel half-dressed.

  
And the _other_ reason Yang was getting cold was that she wasn't even half-dressed. Just some ridiculous lingerie, for which practically had not been a design consideration at all. She hadn't taken a really good look at them, but wearing them was enough to tell her that. If she moved too precipitously, she was pretty sure the bra would just give up entirely and fall off. Yang wasn't even going to get started on the panties. Though if she got much colder, she might have to, relying on her horrified bewilderment to keep herself warm.

  
_What was taking so long?_

  
_No._

  
_I need to be patient._

  
Yang made herself conscious of her breathing. Nice and slow, even, letting the air fill her lungs and ease out. Quietly. In stillness.

  
She felt a touch on her Atlesian arm.

  
_Oh. Right. No wonder._

  
Yang detached her arm and held it out, offering it. The weight vanished from her hand. She felt lopsided again. Even if that was normal now. She'd always dressed asymmetrically; this was just... more so. Talk about committing to an aesthetic. 

  
A whisper in her ear. "Thank you."

  
_Blake._

  
Yang shivered, the sensation having nothing to do with the temperature of the room. Knowing she was right there, looking at her - 

  
A loop of silken ribbon wrapped around her wrist, and she felt a weight on the bed, slipping behind her. The ribbon dragged her arm behind her back, flat across her lower back. Yang wanted to grope around with her hand, see what she could find, but...

  
_I'll be good._

  
More ribbons were wrapped around her, with just the barest touch of Blake's hands. Never lingering, just doing their work. But those moments practically blazed on Yang's skin, and she had to fight to keep from gasping. She still let out little shivers whenever she felt Blake's touch, but she tried to keep still. Let her work.

  
Yang could feel the harness of ribbons take shape around her, like wearing a silky hug. From something with a dozen arms or so, but a hug was a hug. Her stump had just been tied tightly to the harness - which made sense. There probably wasn't a lot of documentation on how to deal with things like that. Especially when the cut was above her elbow, not leaving Blake any joint to work with. And keeping her Atlesian arm - the whole point was for Yang to be vulnerable. It would be pretty hard to do that when she had a shotgun arm. And all of her tricks that she'd stashed in it. The razor, particularly.

  
She felt Blake's hand and ribbons start to work on her legs, and she squeezed her eyes shut under the blindfold, trying to stay still for Blake. Trying not to think about Blake being right there, tying her ankles to her opposite thighs, clearly able to see the effect she was having on Yang...

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
...See Yang use her tricks to try to stay calm...

  
_Breathe in, I need her, hold it, so much, breathe out, right now. Now!_

  
...

  
_I need to be patient._

  
...

  
_Not that I have any choice right now._

  
She felt Blake's lips brush her cheek, and went rigid, trying to be good, hoping Blake would linger, that she felt safe, that she would just grab Yang by the hair and kiss her-

  
-Blake's hands were in her hair.

  
Yang wavered on the edge, her breathing ragged, her lips slightly parted, waiting... waiting. Waiting!

  
She felt an unfamiliar sensation in her scalp, as Blake did something with her hair, keeping a constant pressure, with little spikes of tugging and-

  
_Oh. So that's what having your hair braided feels like._

  
Blake ran her hand down Yang's braid, pressing it into her back. Letting her feel the curves of it. It felt fancy. Not that Yang was really a connoisseur. She tugged on it, pulling Yang's head back, making her bare her throat. And Blake ran her finger down it, ending in the hollow of Yang's throat, making little circles in it. "All ready?"

  
Yang whined in the back of her throat. "...Blake..."

* * *

  
"All ready to go?"

  
Yang jolted awake, looking up at Blake. And immediately looking down, at her bag on her lap, her arms tangled in the straps. "Uh, sorry, dozed off." She swallowed, trying to make her voice sound normal again. "I'm ready."

  
Blake just nodded, sitting down on the couch next to her, swinging around her backpack to hold it on her lap. "That makes four of us." She nodded at Oscar, who was pacing back and forth by the door, his backpack slung. Muttering to himself. Or to Ozpin. "Ren's trying to get Nora up. Weiss is doing some last minute repacking for some reason. How's Ruby?"

  
Checking the time on her scroll, Yang said, "Um, loading mags, and then brushing her teeth and coming down. She should be down soon." 

  
"Qrow?"

  
Disentangling herself from her bag, Yang stood up. "I'll go pound on his door. He just needs to fall out of bed." _And I need a moment to think. Away from you._ She turned away, before Blake could say anything, and started heading towards her uncle's room.

  
_And what do you think **that** dream means, Yang?_ Yang imagined herself sitting in a chair, talking to herself lying on a couch, adjusting a pair of spectacles, pen poised over a notepad.

  
_She came back. She abandoned me, but she came back. Not like Raven. Blake came back. Raven keeps running away._

  
_So you decided to just let her back in? Like nothing happened? Give her a clean shot at your heart again?_

  
_It's not the same. It's more complicated than just me and her._

  
_Yes, it is. What if it had been Adam in that dream, instead of Blake? You helpless before him? Again?_

  
_...It's not the same. Being vulnerable isn't the same as being helpless. I'm **not** helpless._

  
Yang knocked loudly on the door. "Uncle Qrow? You up?"

  
There was a crash from inside, and what sounded like a bottle skittering across the floor. Yang suppressed a sigh. _Not having that fight again. I know I can't win._

  
He pulled the door open, the tails of his coat flapping. "Yeah, firecracker. All ready." He slung Harbinger and slipped out of the room. Yang didn't let herself look at the state of it. Not her problem. Qrow patted her shoulder and led the way back to the living room. "Argus, here we come."


End file.
